


P.U.

by maaaaa



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23688493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maaaaa/pseuds/maaaaa
Summary: Written in November 2006 in response to the Sentinel Thursday challenge "Sniffing."
Relationships: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	P.U.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in November 2006 in response to the Sentinel Thursday challenge "Sniffing."

Jim was sitting on the couch, wallowing in misery. It had been a long week, culminating in a major bust in the wee early hours of the morning, followed by a really long day. The miserable part for Jim was not the hours of booking, questioning, and scads of paperwork that had followed. It was coming home late in the evening to an empty loft. He needed to unwind in a big way, and every attempt he made to relax ended with a replay of the smells that had saturated the crime scene assaulting his senses. He’d been trying for over an hour to use one of the meditation techniques Blair had taught him, but without his guide to help, he was finding it nearly impossible to achieve the state of mind required. If he couldn’t find a way to cleanse his olfactory palate, and damn soon, he was sure he was going to sink so far into a zone, Blair’d need a grappling hook to pull him out of it.

A few moments later, Blair shouldered the front door open and burst into the loft. He greeted Jim with a cheery, “What’s up, man?” and didn’t wait for an answer as he dropped his keys close to the basket by the door, toed off his sneakers and kicked them to one side. He sprinted through the loft, depositing a trail of books, his jacket, a bag of half-eaten take out, and his backpack in his wake. He blew past Jim on his way to the stairs, and the breeze he stirred wafted over to Jim, who sniffed the air, and then bolted to his feet.

“Hold it right there, Chief,” he ordered as he came around the end of the couch.

Blair stopped on the bottom step and spun around. “Sorry, man,” he offered as Jim caught up to him. He waved an arm toward the items he’d littered on his way in. “I’ll take care of it,” he placated as he leaned forward and snagged a quick kiss. “Sorry about the half-assed greeting too,” he added as Jim wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged at him. “I know you’ve had a long day, and I’m gonna take care of you, I just need a few minutes to shower and change---,”

Jim ignored Blair’s consolations and buried his face in Blair’s hair. He breathed in deeply and sighed contentedly as Blair’s scent overpowered the nasty smells that had plagued him all day.

“Um, ah, okay,” Blair stammered. He hugged Jim close and planted a kiss behind his left ear.

“You smell so damn good,” Jim whispered, his breath warm and his voice reedy against Blair’s scalp.

“Right, uh-huh,” Blair chuckled. “We really need to run a few tests, you’re sniffer’s way off there, man. I stink.”

“Shhhhh,” Jim hushed as he worked his way over to Blair’s mouth, his cheek never leaving Blair’s face. He pressed his nose against Blair’s and directed, “Breathe out. Through your mouth. Slowly.”

Blair fidgeted for a second, wondering what was going on, but then complied.

A faint scent of kelp and protein powder mingled with mint toothpaste and the onion bagel Blair had snatched for lunch along with a cheap brand of corn chips he loved and sometimes indulged in. Fruitiness…pineapple and orange…blended in, along with the odor of tongue from the deli down the street.

“Jim?” Blair asked quietly, sending an additional puff of the smell of his day’s meals to meet Jim’s nose.

“Shhhhh,” Jim reminded gently as he devoured the scents.

Jim ran his hands slowly down the length of Blair’s arms and captured his wrists. He brought Blair’s hands to his face, tented them over his nose, and once again sniffed. As he inhaled deeply, he noted several different types of soap, the smell of papery wood pulp from old textbooks and notebook paper, chalk and graphite, as well as sweet-saltiness from both Blair’s skin and the corn chips.

The gruesome stench from the bust that had plagued him all day receded as he drenched his sense of smell with the spiciness of Blair.

And he wanted, needed, craved, more.

Jim divested Blair of his flannel shirt, peeling it off his shoulders and letting it slide off his arms and drop to the floor. Blair started to say something, but Jim shushed him yet again. Blair’s features scrunched quizzically but he gave in compliantly, amused at Jim’s antics.

His Henley was next, as Jim yanked it from his jeans and worked it slowly upward, bunching the material cautiously, obviously sniffing Blair’s skin as it was bared.

Blair flushed under the scrutiny, his abdomen and chest blushing pink, causing the smell of his skin to change subtly. Jim lingered near Blair’s navel wrinkling his nose in ticklish whiffs, making Blair shiver. Jim slipped the shirt over Blair’s head and then he tossed it carelessly over his shoulder.

Before Blair could even formulate a comment about that odd behavior, Jim nosed his face into Blair’s left armpit.

“Hey,” Blair yelped. He jumped back clumsily, banging his ankles against a step. “Ow,” he barked, “that smarts. What the heck is going on?” he squawked indignantly as he tried to wrestle Jim away from his armpit. “Ewwww,” he added for emphasis. “Did I mention I haven’t showered yet?”

“You smell great,” Jim replied. “Just great.” The smell of skin warmed cotton, perspiration, deodorant and Blair’s natural odor trickled to the back of his throat and he smiled. He tilted his head ever so slightly, leaving his nose nestled where it was, and looked at Blair. “I want to smell every inch of you,” he stated simply, not wanting to go into a detailed analysis of why he needed this, even though he knew Blair would be more than willing to listen. His hands were already at Blair’s fly, tugging at the zipper.

“I, you, but, you, I mean I,” Blair stuttered as his fingers tap-danced along the top of Jim’s shoulder, his attempt to push him away now half-hearted at best. His dick didn’t seem to mind the suggestion and seemed to be ready to present itself for Jim’s odiferous perusal.

“Please let me do this, love,” Jim whispered, his breath drizzling along Blair’s side, raising gooseflesh.

“But I, um a na, shower, dontcha think?” Blair answered a bit incoherently.

And Jim knew it was dirty pool, but he did it anyway. “It’s a sentinel thing,” was all he said as he unzipped Blair’s jeans. “Please,” Jim pressed his advantage as he pushed Blair’s boxers and pants down over his butt. He maneuvered Blair a little, nudging his hips until the clothing slid to the floor. And then Jim contorted, ducking his head under Blair’s maligned armpit so that his nose was now sniffing its way along Blair’s spine. His hands moved to Blair’s ass, spread his cheeks, and he sniffed his way into the cleft.

“Ho-lee shit,” Blair whispered.

Jim swayed slowly, his hard-on, trapped inside his pants, poking Blair’s erect cock. His hands squeezed Blair’s ass, pulling his cheeks further apart.

Blair closed his eyes and hissed as he felt the tip of Jim’s nose bump up against his hole. He frantically wormed one hand between them and fumbled with Jim’s zipper. Jim assisted by pulling his face away from Blair’s ass and rocking his midsection away from Blair. After two shaky tries, Blair managed to free Jim’s cock.

Jim dropped to his knees, still holding Blair’s ass, and planted his nose in the wiry curls at the base of Blair’s cock. He sniffed and snuffled and then trailed his nostrils over Blair’s erection all the way to the tip, where the aroma of pre-cum and pure Blair was exquisitely heady. His nose twitched with every jittery throb his exploration elicited. The scent of his lover, aroused and eager, was inebriating.

Unbelievably turned on by Jim’s nose on his cock, Blair didn’t last long. He came with short quivery thrusts, uttering breathy monosyllabic endearments.

“I could come just from you fucking me with your scent,” Jim swore solemnly as the smell of Blair’s spunk permeated the air. And a moment later, he did.

Jim pulled Blair against him, and laid his cheek on Blair’s stomach. Both men panted heavily as they shivered and shook and wound down from their orgasms.

“Thanks, Chief, you have no idea how much I needed that,” Jim said as he kissed Blair’s belly and snuggled contentedly.

“You, uh, wow, um, thanks, I mean you’re welcome, man, that was, can I try that on you?” Blair spluttered.

“Sure, Junior,” Jim replied. He swatted Blair’s butt as he got to his feet. “Just as soon as I shower.”

“What! Huh? No fair!” Blair protested.

“I reek,” Jim explained, enjoying the Blair-scent lingering in the air as he walked to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and turned on the shower.

“You are so dead, Ellison,” Blair growled as he hurried after Jim. “I’m going to put you through so many tests your nose is gonna regret the day it ever met me.” He banged on the door as he continued hurling threats.

The door swung open and Blair hopped back.

Jim smiled disarmingly and Blair relented, wondering how he managed to pull off making that look intimidating and endearing at the same time.

“You reek too,” Jim said with a laugh, knowing he’d diverted Blair’s attention as he hauled him in to share the shower.


End file.
